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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29278737">Beneath the Gold</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/coaldustcanary/pseuds/coaldustcanary'>coaldustcanary</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Removing Armor, Robert's Rebellion Fails | Rhaegar Targaryen Wins, Touching</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 01:40:33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,329</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29278737</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/coaldustcanary/pseuds/coaldustcanary</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Half a world away from home, Davos Seaworth and Stannis Baratheon talk of finding a way back.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Stannis Baratheon/Davos Seaworth</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Chocolate Box - Round 6</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Beneath the Gold</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Plaid_Slytherin/gifts">The_Plaid_Slytherin</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There were few things in this world that Davos appreciated so much as the relative peace of the camp as the evening’s revelry gave way to exhaustion and empty wineskins and men sought their tents for quiet and rest. A military encampment was never truly silent--silence was ominous and a sign to be wary of whatever threat had caused it--but the steady and predictable muting of raised voices, stomping boots, and restive horses was welcome. The glow of an occasional passing torch casting shadows on the golden tent walls was welcome; the small candle Davos had lit was hardly enough illumination for the fiddly armor repair he was attempting. Eventually he set the leather lacing and the bracer down with a muffled sigh, leaving the candle to gutter fitfully. There was no need to pretend to have a reason to stay awake; Stannis would expect to find him thus, regardless.</p><p>Beyond a silk partition, Renly slept soundly in the far corner of the tent. Stannis’s squire, Torman, had retired to the tent he shared with Ser Ormund, pitched just next to Stannis’s own. Davos could easily take to his own bed, he felt sure. Stannis would not begrudge him the rest, and they could talk of the meeting among the officers tomorrow easily enough. But whatever was decided, Davos wanted to know tonight.</p><p>Tomorrow, the whole Golden Company would know the terms of the next contract. The news would race across the camp before the sun had risen fully in the sky. Tonight Davos wanted the news for himself.</p><p>As if conjured by Davos’s impatience, the front flap of the tent was pulled aside, and Stannis stepped inside, the fitful candlelight glinting off the rings of gold circling his left arm and his face cast in shadow. He paused within the threshold and fastened the tent flap closed with deliberate, small movements, even as Davos found his feet. Finally Stannis turned to him, his gaze traveling over Davos, the abandoned bracer, and the tiny candle on the desk before returning to the other man.</p><p>“Renly sleeps, my lord,” Davos began, pitching his voice low and answering the question that had arisen in Stannis’s eyes, pleased to see a hint of satisfaction play over his features. “As do Ormund and Torman.”</p><p>“And why do you not sleep, Davos? The hour is late,” Stannis said, settling on the camp stool next to the small desk and resting his forearms on his knees. The tiny thing looked absurd, and Stannis’s long limbs should have seemed absurd folded up upon it, but somehow he managed to only look slightly disgruntled. He began to carefully unbuckle the fastenings of the armor on his forearm before Davos made a small noise of protest and reached out to all his hands, his own taking their place.</p><p>“Let me, my lord.” He set to work on the buckles with practiced motions. Stannis made no move to stop him, though he frowned.</p><p>“This is a squire’s work,” he objected.</p><p>“Let Torman sleep.” Seeing Stannis’s eyes narrow, Davos continued, not pausing in his careful working of buckles and laces. “If I wake him, I will certainly wake Ormund as well, and likely Renly, too.” Stannis finally dipped his chin in a reluctant nod as Davos worked the bracer free, and leaned forward to allow Davos to step around him within the right confines of the tent to begin his work on the other arm, working both the bracer and the golden bands above it free. They slipped off easily; strong as he was, Stannis’s frame still, years later, bore the sinewy musculature and stretched marks of starvation from the siege in his skin.</p><p>Still, there was a taut readiness to even his seated pose, as if he holding himself back from pacing the pavillion's confines by only a hair's breadth. </p><p>“What news from the council, my lord?” Davos ventured. Stannis closed his hand into a tight fist.</p><p>“Myles has chosen our next contract, and the officers have all agreed. The pledges of Stark, Arryn, Tully, and even now Lannister were enough to convince them. They have sworn to our cause.” Stannis did not smile, but when Davos’s hands stilled on his arm, Stannis put his own free hand on Davos’s shoulder, clasping it firmly. His blue eyes fairly glowed in the dim light.</p><p>“We are going home, Davos.”</p><p>"I am glad to hear it, my lord. I had no doubt they would follow you, in the end," Davos replied, settling the golden bands gently in a saddlebag upon which Davos would rest his pillow. In the field a man of the Golden Company would sleep in his wealth in case of attack, but here in the meeting camp before the season of military campaigns, men were more lax.</p><p>Still, one couldn't be too careful. Even now. Especially now. Davos set the pack aside and went to one knee to begin work on the buckles of Stannis's mail. Stannis angled his head to watch Davos work, a small, crimped fold of displeasure narrowing his lips. Davos felt Stannis draw breath beneath his hands as he worked the armor free and paused in his work once more. </p><p>"You have reservations," Stannis observed. Davos felt the words as much as heard them; they vibrated  through the lightly-padded garment beneath the mail, low and touched with impatience.</p><p>"It's a poor smuggler who trusts easily or widely. I have faith in you and the company, but for all their talk and their chests of golden dragons sent over the water, the other houses who are part of this rebellion are playing their cards very close to their chests this time," Davos said, carefully meeting Stannis’s gaze before dropping his eyes back to his work and pulling the armor free of the other man's body. He settled it carefully on the nearby stand, using a cloth to wipe the damp of Stannis's sweat from the leather and giving it a cursory examination for wear or fault. Behind him Stannis remained silent. When he turned back around Stannis had stood after shrugging off the padded jacket and shirt, baring every familiar mark and scar on his chest and tightly-knotted shoulders. He noted the old gash that Davos had sewn with his own hands on the other man's shoulder and a purpling bruise from teaching an overly-excitable Renly with blunted blades. It fired anew a fierce, protective ache in his chest. Davos hesitated briefly before reaching for the garments draped over Stannis’s arm, but Stannis made no move to release them. </p><p>"Rhaegar already sees treason in every shadow and around every corner, just like his sire. He rarely stirs from Maegor's Holdfast and his books these days, muttering constantly of this prophecy or that one, but even he would know if even so much as a servant of any of those houses made contact with the Golden Company," Stannis argued, stepping forward into Davos's space so that Davos had to look up to meet his intent gaze squarely.</p><p>"Aye. But soon enough, there will be no hiding for them, either."</p><p>"Very soon, they'll have to prove themselves - to me or to House Targaryen," Stannis agreed, finally releasing his garments into Davos's grasp, only to press one hand to Davos's shoulder, the other clasped round the back of his neck.</p><p>"And it is then that I will need your suspicions and your wariness most, Davos. To strip lies bare."</p><p>Davos pushed the armful of clothing aside onto the desk and fit his hands firmly to familiar skin, pulling Stannis into his embrace. Though he avoided the freshest bruise and the most tender of scars, Stannis still hissed softly at the contact. Davos pressed his mouth against Stannis's own swiftly before pressing him back and down into the low camp chair, murmuring a promise as he returned to his knees. </p><p>"If I can strip a king bare this well I think I'll manage the rest just fine."</p>
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